Father Tested, Kid Approved
by madsthenerdygirl
Summary: She really shouldn't be having a panic attack about meeting a seven-year-old.


**Title: Father Tested, Kid Approved**

**Rating: *cough***

**Summary: She really shouldn't be having a panic attack about meeting a seven-year-old.**

**Disclaimer: *bursts into hysterical laughter***

**Dedication: To Rachel2008, who gave me the idea.**

Before this proceeds any further, let it be known that Dr. Carol Marcus, Jack-of-all-Science-Trades aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise, is a professional.

No, really, she is.

Especially when you compare her to the Captain, the Chief Engineer, the Assistant Chief Engineer, the Navigator, and the Head Nurse.

In fact, she's so professional it took her coworkers six months to realize that she was in a relationship with the Chief Medical Officer.

So when she says that she let said Chief Medical Officer finger her on the shuttle, you will understand how very out of the ordinary this is.

No, really, it is.

Of course, at the moment she's considering making it more _in_ the ordinary way of things because good God seriously, the things he can do with his fingers should be fucking illegal.

Or, well, not illegal, because right now they're what's causing her to make those embarrassing noises in the back of her throat. She presses further into him, feeling his erection against her ass and fuck she wants that, too, but maybe later because right now her hips are snapping helplessly as she rides his hand, and her breasts are a hell of a lot more sensitive than she previously gave them credit for being and words are quickly growing beyond her capability.

She has no idea how Leonard worked it so that they got their own private shuttle (she's thinking blackmail) but she's incredibly grateful for it at the moment as she lets out an almighty shriek that she'll definitely deny later. Her entire body bends, full-body shudders making her a wreck, her hips rolling as he continues to work her, guiding her through until she's calmed down just enough for him to speed up and roll her clit between his thumb and forefinger, sending a second orgasm ripping through her before he lets her sink boneless against him.

She's completely ruined for any other man now, but she can't find it in herself to mind.

The room slowly stops spinning and she becomes aware of the humming kisses he's placing on her neck and brushing behind her ear as he smells her hair (he's stupidly in love with her shampoo). His arms around her waist are the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor, where there is undoubtedly a puddle.

At least her underwear is somewhat preserved, hooked around her left ankle. She's going to have to wash her top, though, and iron it before they make any public appearances.

"You good there darlin'?" He drawls, his gravelly twang sending a shiver down her body.

Her throat clicks dryly when she tries to talk, so she swallows and tries again. "Good… is an understatement." She admits.

At first she was reluctant to confess just how much he affected her – how he could play her like a fiddle and reduce her to a pile of goo – but she's since learned that for all of his tough talk, Leonard McCoy is one of the most emotionally insecure people she's ever met. It's easier to push people away than let them get too close. Now she makes sure to show her gratitude, and she thinks it's starting to affect other areas of her life, giving compliments more readily and being openly supportive of things like Sulu's latest plant breeding program.

She supposes it's a part of being a family.

Speaking of family…

"Think we'll have time to let me take care of you?" She asks, grinding against him for emphasis.

She grins at the expression on his face. "God, I hope so, because I'm not done with you yet."

She giggles – and when was the last time she did that? – and turns to push him onto the shuttle floor, stripping off her top but leaving on the boots. She knows he likes them.

Usually this is the part where they draw it out, make it last just a little bit longer, because he's unusually attentive and likes to slow things down, but they've got approximately fifteen minutes to finish up, clean up, pick up the rental car, and get to the apartment so they'll have to settle for hard and dirty.

Not that she's complaining, mind you.

They manage to get everything taken care of and arrive two minutes early, so she's calling it a win until they park the rental and start heading inside the building.

She really shouldn't be so nervous. She has, technically, already met Joanna McCoy when Leonard was video chatting his daughter about a month back, and she's been told she's good with children. But the butterflies in her stomach are multiplying rather than going away and all the logic in the world can't help her.

Idly, she wonders how Spock is doing. He's meeting Uhura's parents today, and if they're anything like the Communications Officer they'll be intimidating at the very least.

Seven-year-olds are not supposed to be intimidating. They're supposed to be adorable and sweet and fun to be around.

She remembers their last shore leave, when their relationship status was still unknown to the rest of the crew. Leonard had gone to see Joanna for the first week, and the second week had allowed Carol to take him to a small cottage her mother's family owned in the Lake District. It was a lovely area, and they'd been blessed with good weather.

They hadn't left the bed for more than two hours at a time.

She knows that in Leonard's old-fashioned mind meeting the parents is the final step, the true test, but right now she's feeling like this is. Joanna is the most important person in Leonard's life. Even his deep, abiding friendship with Jim pales in comparison to the devotion and dedication he shows towards his daughter. He doesn't often get the chance to show it because of the custody rights, but he's always thinking of her. He video chats her once a week, sends her presents from planets they visit, and writes long emails. Joanna faxes him artwork and he hangs it in his office with pride, and shares her emails to him with Carol on their mornings off, when they can laze around in bed and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist.

So… parents, or the adored child of your significant other?

Yeah, it's no competition.

Her stomach knots itself up even further as the elevator approaches their floor. By the time they step out into the hall she's ready to hurl as a thousand horrifying scenarios play out in her head on repeat.

Right before they reach the door of the apartment, she feels a warm, callused hand clasp hers. His face is in its usual mask of slight annoyance but his hand is holding hers incredibly tightly. She laces their fingers together, squeezing back. She doesn't know why he's suddenly nervous – it was his idea, after all – until they knock and the door is open.

So this is Jocelyn.

She's dark-skinned, although Carol can't quite make out her heritage – Native American, possibly. She's got the curves that Carol always longed for, and she's annoyingly tall as well. There's a good eight inches of difference between Carol and Leonard, but Jocelyn is at least 5'11" if not a full six feet. Her dark hair is thick and curly, naturally framing her face, and she probably doesn't have to struggle with a hair straightener for an hour every morning.

At least their breasts are the same size.

In other words the woman is a friggin' Amazon warrior and Carol can't really blame Leonard for falling for the woman. Kirk would be tripping all over his feet with eagerness by this point. But this is also, Carol reminds herself, the woman who gave Leonard such shitty visiting rights and then shipped Joanna off to boarding school.

"You're here." Jocelyn sounds disappointed.

"Daddy?" A small head peeks around the corner, dark straight locks and naturally tan skin complimenting round hazel eyes. They're Leonard's eyes, Carol realizes with a start. She decides to take this as a good sign.

"There's my girl." Leonard goes down on one knee to swoop the child up into a hug, sending Joanna into a fit of giggles. Carol sees how tightly the girl holds onto her father, however, tiny nails digging into his shirt.

When she looks up, it's to find Jocelyn openly appraising her, one eyebrow raised.

Time to take the high road, then.

"You must be Jocelyn." Carol forces a smile onto her face, extending her hand. "I'm Carol Marcus."

Jocelyn's hand is cold, and Carol notices with inner glee that the woman is the first to drop the handshake.

"You must be Leonard's new girlfriend." Jocelyn's voice is deep but oddly grating.

"We just passed the eight-month mark, actually." Leonard says as he stands up, Joanna stubbornly keeping her arms and legs wrapped around his torso.

Jocelyn's smile freezes slightly. "That must be nice." She says.

Carol can't hide her smirk. Screw the high road. There are two sides to every story but she doesn't want to hear Jocelyn's version. Leonard was honest about his contribution to the failed marriage, but nothing she's heard about Jocelyn has been good and the impression she's getting right now is only confirming her preconceived notions.

If that makes her a bad person, than so be it.

"Why don't you get your suitcase, honey?" Leonard says, carefully unwrapping Joanna's limbs from around him. "Then we'll be off."

Joanna scampers down the hall.

"She's missed you." Jocelyn admits. It looks as if it's causing her pain to admit.

"I've offered to let her spend some time on the _Enterprise_ when we're in Federation space." Leonard's tone is slightly stiffer than normal, and when Carol slips her hand into his again, he holds on as if for dear life.

She doesn't know Jocelyn very well, but all of a sudden an unbridled hatred consumes her. Leonard is one of the best men she knows. He can turn Kirk and Spock into chastised puppies, saves lives daily, sends her flowers (with help from Sulu) on random days, and for all of his crankiness is the most respectful and gentlemanly male being on-ship when it comes to the women of the _Enterprise_. That this strong, capable man, the one Carol trusts – and has trusted, on numerous occasions – with her life, can be reduced to a cornered animal around this woman is close to horrifying.

"As if a Starship is any safe place to raise a child." Jocelyn replies, ice in her tone.

"Actually, the rate of fatality or combat-related injury on a Federation Starship in Federation space, especially among the Core planets, is zero point five eight percent." Carol says in her sweetest, most diplomatic tone. It's the one she reserves for those occasions when Spock is being particularly – and annoyingly – logical. It is also, incidentally, the one she used when dealing with some asshole Klingons while Kirk and Spock were both incapacitated down in medbay and Sulu had laryngitis.

It's a long story.

Jocelyn appears unable to decide if surprise or irritation is the best emotion to exhibit. "Do you have the authority to tell me how to raise my child, Ms. Marcus?"

"Dr. Marcus." Carol corrects, her tone even and ever so polite. She remembers her mother during society dinners, poised and put together no matter what barbs were thrown. "And I would certainly never presume such a thing. However – and stop me if I'm wrong – as I understand it with Leonard only allowed to spend time with Joanna during his shore leave, he's only getting half the time his legal rights to her allow."

Leonard is squeezing her hand tightly enough that she's in danger of losing circulation. She squeezes back as fiercely as she can. He's more than capable of fighting his own battles but if he won't fight this one, then by God she's going up to bat for him.

Jocelyn looks like she's been slapped. "You've read the legal papers, then?" She asks archly.

"No." Carol responds brightly. "My grandmother was a prominent solicitor for over fifty years in London. Except in cases of abuse, mental incapacitation such as insanity, or criminal activities, there is a minimal amount of custody granted to a parent during a divorce or separation, and Leonard is getting half of that."

It's hard not to jump up and down with glee at the expression on Jocelyn's face, but Carol manages to stop herself.

"In fact…" She continues, almost casually, "He'd be perfectly within his legal rights to take you to court over it. I know of at least three divorcees who have their children spend time on Starships when they're among the Core planets."

The moment is absolutely priceless.

"I'm ready to go!" Joanna announces happily, hoisting her suitcase up in the air for her father to see.

"All right then." Leonard says, giving Carol's hand a final squeeze before releasing it to take Joanna's suitcase. "Let's go, sweetheart."

"Bye, Mommy!" Joanna says, hugging her mother before dashing out the door. "C'mon, we're going to be late!"

"Pleasure to meet you." Carol says with a winning smile.

"Jocelyn." Leonard nods, and there's a dark flash in his eyes that Carol knows well. It's the fighter coming to life, the challenge roared across the plains, the gauntlet thrown. It's a warning, and a promise.

They exit before Jocelyn can respond.

Joanna is repeatedly pressing the button on the elevator to, theoretically, make it go faster. She's not even sparing them a glance as Leonard crowds Carol up against the wall, kisses her senseless in two seconds flat.

"You were magnificent." He whispers, awe and gratitude roughing up his voice.

She smiles helplessly. "Anytime." She promises him.

"Daddy, the elevator's here!"

"Coming!" Leonard pulls her along after his daughter.

Oh, yeah, that.

The butterflies are back now.

* * *

"What color should we use next?"

"Blue. He likes blue."

"Okay."

She hands Joanna a blue crayon. The girl carefully draws, her tongue poking out from between her teeth, her eyes focused. She reminds Carol of her father, how single-minded he is when he's at the operating table.

"Where does the control panel go?"

Carol points it out. "Right there."

"Are there lots of wires?"

"Uh-huh. If you cut the wrong one, it can make a big mess."

Joanna begins drawing the control panel. "Daddy says he's not a torpedo technician."

Carol laughs. There are, apparently, a lot of things that Leonard McCoy is not, including a biochemist, relationship counselor, engineer, dog trainer, and spy. "That's true."

"What's a torpedo technician?"

"A torpedo technician is a scientist that puts together torpedoes and takes them apart." Carol explains.

"Like you?" Joanna asks.

"Pretty much." Carol smiles. Somehow within the space of ten minutes, this girl has wrapped Carol Marcus around her little finger. From the moment Joanna looked up at Carol – as if noticing her for the first time – and declared that Carol had different colored eyes, the seven-year-old took it upon herself to show Carol a good time, practically plastering herself to the woman's leg. She insisted that Carol sit next to her at dinner, had pestered her with questions, and when she'd learned that they were going to Disneyland for the week, had hugged both her father and Carol in thanks.

Tonight is their final night before they take her back to Jocelyn, and Carol is shocked to find she's going to miss Joanna.

Hence the drawing on the floor of the hotel room while Leonard takes a shower.

"But a surgeon takes people apart and puts them back together." Joanna remarks. "That's kind of the same thing, right?"

"Kind of." Carol admits.

"So maybe Daddy could be a torpedo surgeon?" Joanna asks. She's heard the story of Leonard's near-death experience with Admiral Marcus's 'torpedoes'.

Carol laughs. "I think that would be an excellent title."

Joanna selects a bright green crayon to finish up the control panel before picking up a fat black one. She starts to write, and then pauses.

"What should a certificate look like?"

"What kind of certificate?"

"A Torpedo Surgeon certificate." Joanna says, as if it should be obvious.

Carol thinks for a moment. "How about this – I'll say it, and you can write it out."

Joanna nods eagerly.

"This certificate," Carol recites slowly, helping Joanna with the spelling, "shows that one Dr. Leonard McCoy is authorized as a Torpedo Surgeon."

"And then what?" Joanna asks.

"And then we need authorities to sign it." Carol explains.

This appears to cause Joanna distress. "What authorities?"

"Well, I'm a scientist, and I was there, so I can sign it." Carol picks up a purple crayon and signs her name carefully at the bottom left of the picture. "And you know how responsible your Daddy is, right? So you can sign too."

Joanna signs her name using a red crayon at the bottom right.

"Finished!" She announces proudly. "Do you think he'll like it?"

Carol laughs, because it's a ridiculous question. "Of course he will." She assures her.

Joanna smiles, and then turns serious. "I like you, Carol."

Carol smiles. "I like you too, Joanna."

"I think my Daddy likes you, too." Joanna says earnestly.

"Well, I should hope so." Carol replies, because if he doesn't like her by now they've got to have a talk.

"No, I mean, he really, _really_ likes you." Joanna insists, trying to get her point across. She looks so solemn and urgent that Carol can't really help but stroke the girl's hair.

"Well guess what?"

Joanna leans in, eager to hear.

"I really, really like your Daddy." Carol whispers.

Joanna claps her hands gleefully before throwing her arms around Carol's neck, and Carol might have to hold back a sudden welling of emotion as she hugs the girl back.

"What'd I miss?" Leonard's voice sounds booming in the otherwise silent room.

"We made you a present!" Joanna shouts, scooping up the certificate and rushing over to give it to him.

Carol watches his face as he reads the certificate, and when he looks up at her their eyes lock. There's something incredibly deep and fathomless in his eyes and it makes the breath catch and stutter in her chest, makes her heart beat a little faster.

"I love it." He says, his eyes saying so much more.

* * *

"Alone at last." Leonard jokes as they start up the shuttle.

"Don't lie – you miss her." She replies, thinking of the goodbye they just had to endure.

"I know." He sighs, leaning back as she fiddles with the controls. He can fly a shuttle if he absolutely has to but he'd prefer to avoid that task. "But there are perks to not having a kid around twenty-four seven."

"Such as?" She asks, adjusting the seat.

His hand slides up her thigh, and she smiles.

"I still haven't thanked you properly for that scene at Jocelyn's." He must have unbuckled to lean over because his mouth is right by her ear, and the sound of his voice is doing things to her. "You were amazing."

"So you've told me." She says, playfully shoving him back over to his side of the shuttle. "And you can show me the extent of your appreciation when we're back on the _Enterprise_."

She does her best to ignore the twinge in her chest at the absence of their little compatriot, hoping that Joanna will be able to visit the _Enterprise _soon. But for now, Leonard's gratitude is definitely enough.

She guns the engine, and they take off for home.

**Wow. This was a lot longer than I originally planned. That tends to happen a lot. I hope you all enjoyed this, and maybe it inspired you to write some McCarol stuff of your own? Goodness knows we need more fanfics out there for our beloved ship.**

**I can't guarantee when, but you'll definitely be seeing more from me about this couple! (Hey, when I ship something, I ship it **_**hard**_**.)**


End file.
